Mitchell, Annie & George - In a Pink House
by MolonyBalony
Summary: I really miss the original trio, so I'm going back to the beginning. So, for those of you who are missing them too, I'm writing a whole new story for them! I love Mitchell and Annie's banter and chemistry, but they're not together.. Yet! So this is a bit of an AU :-)
1. There is a Light that Never Goes out

Who doesn't miss the original trio? I've recently started watching Being Human from series 1 (for what must be the 8th time now) and I'd forgotten how much I loved the characters of Mitchell, George and Annie.

So, I'm going right back to the beginning! Mostly, it'll be a bit of Mitchell/Annie fluff, a lot of George's dramatic ways, and just generally the three of them back in their pink house in Bristol again.

No Lauren, no weird DVD, Mitchell hasn't relapsed, Annie can be seen.

Let me know if you want me to continue from this chapter :-)

Rated **T** for language.

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Being Human, or the characters at all._

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**Chapter 1: There is a Light that Never Goes Out**

The clanging of pots and pans rang through the walls of the house, shortly followed by the clunking of the pipes from the sink in the kitchen. An unknown, high-pitched, abrupt _beep_ flooded the silence.

Mitchell refused to open his eyes. He clutched his duvet and pulled it over his face, screwing up his eyes in the attempt to drop off to sleep again. But it was hopeless. He groaned and rolled over to look at his alarm clock. There was another beep, but it wasn't from his alarm clock.

He dragged himself out of bed, wearing only a black vest and boxers, and tiredly trudged down the stairs.

"Morning," George called from the kitchen, in an unusually happy tone.

The beep sounded again.

Mitchell was already angry that he had been woken up, and at the ghastly hour of eleven o'clock, "What the fuck is that noise?" He pushed his hair off his face and slumped onto a kitchen chair.

"I dunno, it's been doing it all morning," George was washing up a frying pan in the disturbingly loud sink, after having egg on toast for breakfast.

"But where is it coming from?" Mitchell slammed his head on the table in frustration as the beep returned.

"I dunno," George repeated, "Ask Annie."

"Where's Annie?" He mumbled into the table, refusing to lift his head and find her himself.

"Getting the cold cups of tea from her room."

"I'll wait for her to come back down," Mitchell groaned.

George turned around and looked at Mitchell with concern and confusion, "What side of the bed did you get out of this morning?"

"I didn't want to get up," Mitchell moaned before another beep rang through the house. He let out a yell of irritation and leapt up out of his seat, "For fuck sake!" His fist slammed onto the table, knocking over George's unfinished tea.

George's eyes widened as he flinched backwards into the sink.

Annie entered the kitchen, seeing a startled George opposite a terrifyingly angry Mitchell. His scruffy hair had fallen over his face and his clenched fist was soaked in burning hot tea.

"What's happened here then?" Annie asked, heading towards a cloth by the sink.

"George keeps asking me questions," Mitchell spat, and his eyebrows furrowed, "And there's a fucking beep-y noise," he yelled, over another beep as if it were waiting for its cue, "_That _fucking beep! And it won't go away! It just keeps randomly beeping!" His fist slamming into the table once again.

Annie took his tea-soaked hand carefully, trying to keep her distance from the fuming vampire, and wiped away the tea. Mitchell's eyebrows went from sitting angrily above his glaring eyes, to slightly raised with surprise.

"What're you doing?" He asked, barely audible.

"You've got hot tea all over your hand," Annie stated simply, turning his hand over to clean his palm.

George had grabbed another cloth to clean the tea covered table and was watching Mitchell's face carefully.

"Oh," Mitchell began, "Sorry."

"You alright?" George asked him, seriously, once Annie had cleaned up his hand and gone to wring out the cloth.

"I'm thirsty, George," his tone deep and dark.

"Do you want some tea?" Annie asked, as she filled up the kettle.

"I don't want any f-"He stopped himself from swearing and shouting at her. She hadn't done anything wrong, "I'm going back to bed."

And with that he trudged back upstairs and threw himself onto his bed, not bothering to shut his door.

Down in the kitchen, George and Annie looked at each other, eye brows raised.

"I think he's finding things a bit difficult at the moment," George suggested, "I mean, he hasn't had any blood for weeks now."

"Will he be alright?" Annie's concern was obvious in her eyes.

Another beep sounded, followed by a frustrated yell and a thud.

"What the hell is that?" George refrained from yelling, and instead set off round the house waiting for the next beep.

After several yells, thuds and beeps, George had finally found the source. It was the fire alarm announcing it was low on battery.

"Is that it?" George whined.

Mitchell appeared from his room and joined George to look at the ceiling where the fire alarm was, "Is that it?" Mitchell sounded just as disappointed.

Annie came wandering up the stairs to find the two of them staring at the ceiling; her confusion was obvious in her face, "Oh good, Mitchell you're up. Thingy-ma-bob from that house down the road dropped round Casablanca. She said you can keep it."

"Cool," he said, before returning his attention to the fire alarm again.

"What're you two muppets looking at?" Annie asked.

"It's the fire alarm," George began.

"That's where the beeping has been coming from all day," Mitchell finished.

"Oh. What're you going to do about it?"

George stated, "There's a cricket bat in my room, under my bed, quite far back."

"No, you're not smashing it to pieces," Annie sounded like her mother did, whenever she was told she couldn't have a pet dog.

George whined, "Why not?"

"You're renting!"

"We're _all _renting," Mitchell added.

"_I'm _dead!"

"But it keeps beeping!" George whined, much like a seven year old.

"What if there's a real fire?" Annie thought realistically.

"Well at least we'd be able to think straight without the bloody beeping noise!"

~BH~BH~BH~BH~

Nothing much had happened since Mitchell and George had gone to work. Actually, make that nothing at all. Annie had cleaned pretty much every single surface in the house, made several billion cups of tea and made the boys' beds – something they failed to do every day.

The beeping had stopped, after Annie had come to an agreement that they could in fact smash the fire alarm to pieces. Watching their happy, boy-ish faces at the time was worth it. But they had promised to return home, after work, with a new fire alarm.

It was half past eight, and the boys had finally come home. Mitchell came through the front door, taking off his jacket before throwing it onto the sofa arm and falling onto the sofa next to Annie. George had succeeded in his daily ritual of accidentally tripping up the step into the house, before silently cursing and questioning, "Where the hell did that step come from?"

Annie's legs were tucked up into her chest; her arms wrapping snugly around them as if she were cold – but in reality it had just become a habit when she was alive.

George tapped Mitchell's shoulder with the TV remote to get him to move over a bit. Mitchell did as was requested. He had decided some time ago that he didn't want to get sat on by George every evening.

Mitchell tiredly leant into George and rested his head on his shoulder, earning him a very strange look from both George and Annie. Mitchell quickly realised and shuffled to lean in the opposite direction, on Annie.

He was slouched into the sofa and was leaning into her waist. "What did you get up to today?" He peered up at her with puppy-like eyes.

At first Annie was confused as to what Mitchell was playing at. But when she looked down at him to see his pained and tired eyes, she found he was just seeking conversation; comfort from a friend – she had realised recently that he _did _have emotions; that he really did appreciate his friends.

"I made your beds again."

George was flipping through the channels, trying to ignore whatever was happening next to him. He had learnt that Mitchell was seen as a bit of a womanizer. But he hadn't yet noticed that he wasn't acting in that way with Annie. In fact, Mitchell could even be seen as caring when he was Annie – but George wasn't willing to accept that conclusion just yet.

Mitchell lifted himself up so he could see Annie's face more clearly, "Well thank you," he smiled.

"I also found a pair of your boxers on the floor," she added.

Mitchell had to admit he felt slightly embarrassed, and let a very innocent smile spread across his face.

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Should I continue? There will be a plot arising soon... Probably... I just love Mitchell & Annie so much!

Feel free to check out my Doctor Who fics too :-)


	2. Ask

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed and are now following this story!**

I did have a review from someone saying that they hold a grudge against Aidan for leaving and turning his back on it all, but if you do your research they you will find that was filming The Hobbit, but would love to come back, and is always welcome back– although that doesn't seem likely now Annie _and _George are gone now too.

Anyway, just wanted to clarify that. Now, onto chapter 2!

_Disclaimer:__ I own nothing to do with Being Human or any of the characters. There is also a reference to Lord of the Rings, of which I do not own, but it is a good marathon of films._

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**Chapter 2: Ask**

It was midday. Annie was making tea for the boys by the time they finally dragged themselves out of bed. She had also made an early lunch for them both – nothing fancy, just a sandwich each.

"Oh thank you, Annie!" George was sincerely grateful. He hugged her quickly, much to Annie's surprise, and retrieved his sandwich before Mitchell came downstairs and decided he'd like two again.

"That's okay. Figured I had nothing else to do; might as well have made you some lunch. I also made you tea, if you want tea? You're up early; you do know it's Saturday?" Annie said possibly everything in her mind out loud.

"Yes," George made a mean-spirited by humorous remark, "I'm not Mitchell," he took a bit out of his sandwich and made a very satisfied 'mmm' sound.

"Why don't you want to be like me?" Mitchell staggered into the kitchen, clicking his neck which earned him a slightly grossed out look from both George and Annie.

"Your chest is hairy," George said before taking a sip of tea and making another 'mmm'. Annie inwardly smiled at the thought.

Mitchell decided he'd let this one go, and instead refocused his attention on Annie, "Good morning," he smiled in his usual charming way.

"It's almost one o'clock," Annie pointed out, trying not to be phased by his tired, but cheerful smile.

Annie never really noticed how Mitchell's behaviour differed between how he acted around herself, and how he acted around George. Of course, when she did find a noticeable difference in his behaviour, she naively put it down to the fact he was just being polite and saved his boy-ish ways for when he was around other men. She didn't really know if she fancied him either; she liked him, of course. He was always there whenever she found herself in trouble, or was upset. But she also knew she wouldn't want to dump all her problems on him; he had his own.

Mitchell looked at her with an almost... smoldering glare.

"I made you tea and lunch," Annie said, cheerily.

He kissed her cheekily, and quickly, on the cheek before grabbing his sandwich and tea and leaping onto the nearest chair. It wasn't that he thought Annie would mind, and she didn't, he just liked the banter.

She rewarded him with a cheeky glare back, before giggling like a teenage girl.

George watched them both with a confused and a 'that's-a-bit weird' kind of look.

"So, George, your big date with Nina tonight," Mitchell asked excitedly, licking his fingers after already eating half his sandwich and reached for his tea.

"Yep, so?" George tried not to glare at him.

"When was the last time, you..." he trailed off, keeping the conversation decent with Annie being in the room. He didn't know why he bothered though, because Annie had heard him curse and say incredibly rude things pretty much most of the time.

"Oh, why- why do we have to talk about that now? Now of all times? I'm eating. And it's none of your business, anyway," George rambled on in a chaotic flurry of words, high voice getting higher at various points in the sentence.

"Just asking. Tonight could be the night," he wolfed down the last half of his sandwich, licking his fingers again afterwards.

Annie left the room quickly; nobody really wanted to listen to men having a conversation about sex, even if one of them is avoiding the subject.

"No!" George shrieked, almost as if he was in horror, "I will not- I will not 'get my leg over' on the first date. I'm not you!"

Mitchell looked offended, not obviously; but subtly. And in that moment, it was almost as if he had had an epiphany – after all these years, that comment had actually hurt him. If anyone else had said it (excluding Annie) he wouldn't have cared in the slightest. But the fact that the only true, male, friend he had ever had, made it hit a spot in his stone heart.

Mitchell simply got up, without saying a word, and left to flop onto the sofa and look at the TV, that wasn't even switched on.

Within seconds Annie was sitting on the arm of the sofa next to him. She nudged his shoulder with hers and, without saying a word; Mitchell knew what she was going to say.

"George was... mean to me."

"You sound like you're twelve," George spat, before leaving the house and noticeably slamming the door behind him.

"What did you say?" Annie asked him, with a neutral smile.

"I just said tonight could be the night for him, so he said 'I'm not you'."

"I'm guessing that hurt?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he paused, "I just- I've never had a friend like him, and to know that that's what he thinks of me..."

"Well you have been with _a lot _of women," Annie said quietly, but remaining as unbiased as possible.

"Take his side then!" He was about to get up before Annie pushed him back onto the sofa.

"I'm not taking sides. But he doesn't know what you're thinking inside your head. Nobody does."

He peered up at her with unintentional puppy eyes, "And what do you think of me?"

"I think," she began, smiling, "That you're a lovely man, Mitchell. And you don't _want _to hurt your friend-"

"Friends," he interjected.

"Friends," she repeated, "But you do have a past of..." she searched for a polite phrase to replace 'shagging', "sleeping with lots of women, without getting to know them."

"That was the past," he was determined to prove himself to Annie, and George, that he _had _changed, and he didn't want to be like that anymore. Even if that meant exposing his emotions; that he truly cared for Annie.

"How do we know?"

"Well..." he thought having dinner with her would be a good start, but then remembered the slight complication that she couldn't eat, "George is out tonight. You and I can have a fun night, doing anything you want to. Watch a film? Watch the marathon of Lord of the Rings? Play... scrabble?" He questioned himself on that last one.

"Really? You'd be willing to sit in... With me... A dead person... on a Saturday night?" Annie asked incredulously, but slightly touched by his offer.

"I'm technically dead too; we're the perfect match," he joked, but after saying it he seriously considered the concept.

"Ok," she smiled, and in return Mitchell smiled too; a warm but serious smile.

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I really can't help myself – I just love Mitchell and Annie! I hope I captured the characters of all three of them, too; that's always one of my main priorities!


	3. How Soon is Now?

Thank you everyone for the reviews once again – I thought I should thank 'Amy' in particular for taking the time to write such a lovely review. In fact, I was so grateful for such a wonderful review, that I just had to write another episode! :-P But, obviously, I appreciate any review, because without my asking you still all spare a few moments to review :-)

I don't think I have much else to say...

I have slightly altered the storyline in terms of how Annie finds out about her death, just a heads up.

_Disclaimer:__ Obviously, I don't own anything to do with Being Human or any of the characters. I also don't own The Real Hustle - I make a reference to it – it's just Mitchell and George's favourite show from Being Human._

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**Chapter 3: How Soon Is Now?**

George marched into the living room, tugging down the bottoms of his smart shirt, "Right, I'm off."

Annie leapt up, "Do you want some tea before you go?" She asked, as she headed for the kitchen, but was abruptly halted in her path when George caught her arm.

"No, no, I don't want tea," he emphasised.

"I think he needs something a little stronger," Mitchell joked, still slouched into the sofa, as if he were on a mission to create a defined groove of his back.

Annie rolled her eyes at Mitchell before turning back to George, "Just enjoy yourself; that's what dates are all about. Wow, I'm going to miss that. The suspense of the first date; worrying about every little thing," she rambled on, as George's face became slightly worried, "But then it turns out perfectly and in no time you move to Bristol and get engaged!"

"Well hopefully this won't end up with one of us being dead," George joked. He knew what a funny joke was, and what a mean joke was. This type of joke was funny, and Annie giggled away whilst Mitchell unintentionally admired her; smiling cutely. But he quickly stopped himself when he realised what he was doing, and he didn't know why he was smiling like that anyway. He quickly refocused his attention on the TV.

"I'll record The Real Hustle for you," Mitchell said in passing comment as George went for the door. He had forgiven Mitchell for intruding on his private life, and when Mitchell said something simple like that, he saw it as the most thoughtful gesture and smiled.

"Wish me luck!" And he was out the door.

Annie sat down next to Mitchell, tapping the top of his thigh a few times, "I think he really appreciates that."

Mitchell shuffled so he was sitting upright and turned to Annie, "Yeah. Well it wasn't my place to ask him all those questions earlier."

Annie eyes widened suddenly, "What's happened to you?" She asked incredulously.

"I've had years of being someone I'm not, and I didn't like him. Living here, with you," he paused, and quickly added, "And George... You made me realise what's important."

Annie was almost speechless, and tried to add some humour to the serious situation – that's what Mitchell always tried to do. She placed her palm across his head, "You haven't got a temperature."

Mitchell inwardly smiled and let out a low chuckle, "I'm not ill."

"I know," they were both very serious; staring into each other's eyes as if they knew exactly what the other was thinking. Annie let out a breathy sigh, "What're we going to do tonight then?"

And those few serious seconds were gone, as quickly as they had come about.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Mitchell asked, with a puppy-like expression. He had slumped slightly further down into the sofa again, and was peering up at her.

Annie looked skywards as she 'umm'd and 'ahh'd.

"While you have think, I'm going for wee," he had jumped up and was already at the bottom of the stairs.

Annie would have barely noticed if he was gone, if it wasn't for him announcing his bladder needs.

And then there came the moment that would change Annie's living death forever.

A loud yell echoed through the house, as did the sound of erupting water.

"SHIT!"

Annie quickly 'rent-a-ghost' into the upstairs bathroom. If it wasn't for the volcano of water erupting from the toilet he would have jumped.

"Mitchell, what have you done now?" Annie asked, as if this were an everyday occurrence.

"I didn't _do _anything!" He was holding down the top of the toilet in an attempt to stop any more water gushing like a geyser from the top, but it didn't quite work.

"Well you must've done something!"

"Why must _I_ have done something? George could have sabotaged it earlier!" Mitchell yelled over the flooding water.

"Don't blame George when he's not here," Annie tried to hold down the top of the toilet too.

The water began to die down to a small waterfall and then to nothing. Mitchell looked at Annie with his lips turned down in a confused frown. His face said it all, 'oops'.

He cautiously lifted the top off and saw something floating. Well two things. A little 'overflow' cap and some kind of fabric. He looked at Annie again.

She knew exactly what it was. It was the thong that she and Owen had argued about the night she died. Until now she hadn't remembered a thing about her death, but now it was vivid. It was more vivid than any memory she had ever recollected, and it was mortifying.

A traitorous tear crept down her cheek. Mitchell looked at her again just before he was about to remove the fabric. A wave of concern washed over his face, "Annie?"

"It was Owen..." She whispered to herself, as if she were in her own little bubble.

Except Mitchell could hear those three words; his concerned eyes piercing hers, "Annie?"

"Owen pushed me," she whispered incredulously. She looked up and saw brown, stern but caring eyes baring into hers, as anger tore through every frozen vein of Mitchell's body.

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If you want updates for the new chapters, don't forget to follow! :-)

I based the toilet explosion on something that happened in my house recently when I little 'overflow' plug thing came off inside the top of the toilet, and gallons of water fired from the toilet and soaked through the floor into my lounge...

Chapter 4 writing in progress...


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